Snow Ploughed by Lurve
by Witchiepooh
Summary: Draco and Hermione play a game of dating oneupmanship. Hilarity hopefully ensues!Written for the Celebrate the Season with Draco and Hermione fic exchange. OneShot.


**Disclaimer:** Nope, I didn't actually write Harry Potter. Wasn't me!  
**Author's Notes:** I wrote this for the **Celebrate the Season with Draco and Hermione fic exchange for Phopa, my very first exchange fic. Thanks to Reetinkerbell for giving this a read-through. Much appreciated.**

**Summary:** Draco and Hermione play a game of dating one-upmanship. Hilarity (hopefully) ensues!

Hermione grunted with displeasure as she stumbled clumsily out of a snow bank, brushing off a layer of flakes. This was war and it was hell. Indeed, she had underestimated the enemy. He was clever, he was cunning—he was a colossal prick. But, she swore—violently clutching a ball of ice, as its cold remains slipped through her fingers—as Merlin was her witness, Draco Malfoy would not get the better of her again. Even if she had to lie, steal, cheat or kill...1 Well, perhaps not. But she would reprimand him _very _firmly. Oh he'd rue the day he messed with Hermione Granger.

Through her magically enhanced witch ski mask, ("Cozy on the inside, even when you're outside"), her brownie-brown-mmm-yummy-enough-to-eat-chocolaty-chip eyes watched him from across the toboggan hill. Stealth was the key, surprise her one true ally. It was a good thing she had years of training from the Order of the Phoenix. That's right, she was an unstoppable, sleek, snow-fighting machine. She crept along the edge, like Crookshanks cornering a hapless rodent. _Yeah ferret, you're mine_, she thought evilly.

Grey-like-slate-with-a-splash-of-ocean-mixed-with-summer-rain-sorta-misty eyes glanced her way and she dodged behind a snowman, inadvertently grabbing its carrot nose and causing the tyke who built it to cry "Mummmmy!" at the top of his precious little lungs.

_Ankle-biter_, she thought bitterly, then handed the veg back to the young wizard's mother. "Sorry." The woman looked on the verge of throwing hexes. Hermione backed away carefully, hoping Draco hadn't spotted her during the scuffle. Alas, he had heard the screamer and witnessed the not-so-covert carrot exchange. He was doubled over laughing on the other side.

"Bugger," she muttered under her breath.

Hermione cursed her foolish lack of foresight. She should have known when he suggested wizard tobogganing that he was looking to get back at her for the "ice skating incident."

* * *

Since they'd started dating six months ago, the two had taken turns trading new experiences. So far, the little experiment had yielded mixed results. On one hand, they had learned more about each other's lives. Even though Hermione had been in the wizard world for nearly 10 years, so much of her time had been devoted to fighting its dark side. Now, with Draco, she could fully explore the real magic—the kind that enhanced wizard life instead of breaking it down. For Draco, whose past prejudices had slowly evolved into grudging respect, the muggle world offered a cornucopia of fascinating treats to fill his inquisitive mind.

Well, that was what the exchange was about in theory. In reality, it had turned into a game of one-upmanship.

It all started when she took him to a muggle shopping center and playfully ditched him with nothing but a "Muggle Treasure Map," which, if he wasn't such a nancy-boy, he could have used to find her. Honestly, he had no sense of adventure, or apparently, direction.

Rather than following her very detailed instructions, he'd ended up in the food court, whining to a muggle mum about how his girlfriend had abandoned him. The woman (clearly cut from the same mold as Molly Weasley) took pity on the "poor dear" and bought him an ice cream cone. She proceeded to help Draco page Hermione over the center's loudspeaker, delivering a stern lecture to the witch when she finally showed up.

"Your young man tells me he's from out of town. It was _very_ cruel to leave him like that," the old bint scolded. "The sweet lad doesn't know a soul!"

Later, Hermione had argued that the idea—which she thought was highly inventive—was to give him some muggle street smarts. But it probably didn't help that she mocked his inability to find her and teased him for having to, "call for his mummy." Draco was not amused.

"Fine," he'd said moodily at the time. "How about I teach you some wizard street smarts, huh?"

That led to a weekend at "Mondo the Magnificent's Magical Rodeo." Hermione had made like she was so excited to prove she could handle herself just fine, _thank you very much_, in wizard society well beyond Hogwarts. However, Draco failed to inform her it was an "interactive" magical rodeo. She ached for days after getting tossed numerous times from the "mechanical hippogriff" and nearly had her head taken off during "Killer Quidditch."

More recently, there was the infamous muggle ice skating date. How was she to know that someone as graceful as Draco—a delicate swan on foot or in the air—would be absolutely hopeless on thin metal blades? In fact, worse than hopeless: bloody pathetic. He'd spent half the time on his bum, glaring at Hermione as she did figure eights around him. To make matters worse, she'd called over an instructor, a total prat (in Draco's opinion, quite charming in Hermione's estimation) who kept snickering at Draco and blabbing pseudo-encouragement whilst flirting shamelessly with his witch.

"Next time try to spend more time on your feet and less on your arse," the pompous git cheerfully "instructed." Then he'd proceeded to put his slimy hands all over Hermione, gushing, "You have such natural talent. I'm sure with some _private _lessons you could compete."

"You really think so?" Hermione had flushed with color and her voice had developed a highly uncharacteristic giddiness.

Draco made like he was getting up and angrily thrust his skate into the arsehole's leg, causing an uncoordinated tumble. "Oops, my foot slipped," he said innocently (though he couldn't hide his smirk). "I just can't get the hang of this skating thing."

* * *

That winter sport misadventure had led to the current one. As before, Draco had left out a few pertinent details when inviting Hermione for a day of "good old fashioned wizarding fun," in the snow. For example, he "forgot" to mention that magic toboggans hovered over the slope, versus staying on the ground. And, he "accidentally" left out the part about "Kamikaze Tobogganing." That was a rather brutal version of the activity, which involved trying to knock other participants off their sleds.

Looking back, she realized Draco had seemed unusually chipper as he sent her down the hill. "See you at the bottom, luv," he'd said with a glint in his eye. Before Hermione could protest he pushed her off. The moment the sled took flight she let out a gasp of panic, but quickly gained control of the toboggan.

_Hmmm, this isn't so bad_, she thought.

She flew through the air. "Born freeeee!" she sang off-key, "as free as the wind blows, as free as the…"2 Suddenly from somewhere above she heard a yell of "Bonsai!" Her sled had been knocked off course, straight toward a towering snow bank. The shock gave her no time to react and she ploughed at full speed into the chilly obstruction.

* * *

Draco was still in fits of laughter, so Hermione took the opportunity to regain the element of surprise.

She moved toward him slowly, ducking behind snow piles like a top secret agent. Well, a top secret agent whose teeth chattered loudly, but _wayyyy _super duper secret nonetheless. When she stood about 10 meters away she abandoned the sneaky approach for brutal force.

"Freeeeeedommmmmm!"3 she yelled, dashing through the snow toward her somewhat-suspecting prey. She threw her arms around his middle and pushed him to the ground.

Once they'd toppled over, she straddled his waist and began to pummel him with snow, mercilessly smothering it in his face and hair. With snow being shoved in his mouth, a very manly "eep!" was all he could manage in response.

But he gained the upper hand when Hermione paused briefly in her assault, allowing him ample opportunity to flip them over. He grabbed a fistful of snow and skillfully returned her winter kiss.

"Take that, heathen wench!" he bullied, removing her cap and freeing her wild hair.

She screamed, spitting out snow and leveling him with a death stare. Her pissed off countenance—those delicious eyes shining like chocolate syrup—all at once made her look quite delectable.

Draco licked his lips and leaned in for a taste. He slowly lapped up the un-melted snow from her frozen lips, like an eager pup. "Mmm."

"Careful," she purred, "I'm so bloody cold your tongue could get stuck."

He ignored her weak protests, now focusing on her plump lower lip as if it were an ice pop. He bit into it rather harshly, causing her mouth to open in shock and allowing him to intensify his exploration. As he continued to heat her with his kiss, his right hand went on a super duper secret mission of its own volition, moving inside her robes and under her jumper. She flinched as his cold fingers touched the flat of her belly.

He pulled back his lips even as his hand continued to make her squirm, dipping it just below the waist of her jeans. "See what happens when you misbehave," he drawled.

"Yes," she answered hungrily. "I get punished." She lifted her snow-filled head to capture his red lips.

The deep freeze (emphasis on the word deep) snogfest continued for another few minutes, much to the disgust of nearby parents who had to fend off questions from the tiny tots such as "Mummy, why are they rolling in the snow?" and "Is that where snow angels come from, daddy?" Oh the precocious dears!

Draco got so carried away he considered pulling her behind a snowman family and shagging her rotten.

For her part, Hermione's scorching desire fought an epic battle with her freezing arse.

"Uhhh," she moaned.

"Yeah, it feels good," he responded, proud as a peacock at his ability to make her shiver with pleasure. Or so he thought.

She pushed up against him. "Eh, actually my bum's numb."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Way to kill the passion, Granger."

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"I don't think so." He ground his hips against her, boasting his aroused manhood. "So, what do you propose for our next muggle activity?"

"How about rollerblading," she suggested, visions of Draco smashing repeatedly into walls brought a devious grin to her face.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, and then leaned over to kiss her again.

_Ah the spoils of war_.

**The End**

**Endnotes:  
1 **Refers to the famous speech from "Gone with the Wind": "As God is my witness, they're not going to lick me! I'm going to live through this, and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again - no, nor any of my folks! If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill, as God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again." (Quoted from the film.)

**2** The little diddy Hermione butchers while toboganning is "Born Free,' lyrics by Don Black, music by John Barry. "Born free, as free as the wind blows; As free as the grass grows; Born free to follow your heart."

**3** Hermione's battle cry of "Freedom" is swiped from "Braveheart." The main difference in my version is that her face isn't painted blue. Nor is she Mel Gibson.


End file.
